Overlooked
by Alohaemora
Summary: Bill Weasley never imagined that one of his brothers would miss his wedding. [Voted 'Best Family Fic' in the 2016 HPFC Awards; also, Third Place in The Crownless Queen's "Without" Competition.]


1 August 1997

Percy's bedroom had always had the best view of the Burrow's back garden, Bill mused, as he looked through the glass and out towards the nearby apple orchard, where the large, pearly white marquee was gleaming against the horizon. He blinked, thinking of all of the times that he had looked back at the house during a game of Quidditch in the orchard with Charlie, Ron, and the twins, and seen Percy's face framed by his window pane, as he hunched over an essay…or a letter…or a Ministry report…

Bill closed his eyes and sighed softly, turning his back on the window and glancing around his brother's bedroom, which consisted mostly of Fleur's and Gabrielle's things, now. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in here. Had it been during the summer of the Quidditch World Cup? No…Percy had practically barricaded himself in his room that summer, obsessing over all of the important tasks that Mr. Crouch had set for him. Bill racked his brains, trying to remember the most recent visit that he'd paid Percy in his bedroom—but the only memory that came to mind was the evening before Bill had first left for Hogwarts. He, Charlie, and Percy had stayed up half the night playing Exploding Snap on Percy's rug, and they'd ended up falling asleep in an untidy heap on the floor. When Dad had come downstairs to wake them, he'd been so amused by the tangle of limbs and disheveled red hair that he'd taken a photograph. Fifteen years later, it still sat on the Burrow's mantelpiece.

"I was wondering where you'd gone."

Bill startled, turning around. Charlie—who, like Bill, was sporting his finest dress robes—was leaning against the door frame, grinning.

Bill smiled at his brother. "Are they ready for us?"

"Nearly," Charlie told him, stepping into the bedroom and shoving his hands into his pockets. "I just checked in on Fleur. She's putting on Auntie Muriel's tiara."

Bill snorted. "So, she's met Muriel, then? What does she think of her?"

Charlie smirked. "Well, she was muttering in French, so I didn't really understand, but judging by her mum's disapproving expression, I'd say Fleur loves her just as much as we do."

Bill laughed, shaking his head, and the two of them lapsed into comfortable silence, as they gazed at the neatly pressed quilts that sat at the foot of Percy's bed.

"It's weird, him not being here," Bill said quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bill saw Charlie stiffen slightly. There was a very dense pause, and Bill thought for a moment that Charlie was going to ignore the sentiment altogether.

But then— "Yeah," he muttered, folding his arms across his chest and tightening his jaw. "It is."

Bill glanced sideways at Charlie. "I was thinking about that night, before I left for Hogwarts the first time," he continued. "The three of us fell asleep playing Exploding Snap in here. D'you remember that?"

Charlie snorted. "Not likely to forget it, am I?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "I woke up with my eyebrows singed off."

Bill smirked. "That was a good look for you. You should try it again sometime."

Charlie threw him a dirty look. "I think I'll pass," he grumbled, reaching up and running a hand through his brutally short hair. "I've already got Mum bearing down on me with her nastiest Severing Charm every time I visit."

Bill grinned, clapping Charlie's shoulder bracingly. Another lingering silence stretched out between them, as they both returned to their scrutiny of Percy's immaculate bed.

Then, Charlie coughed uncomfortably. "D'you ever see him around? I know Dad does, at the Ministry."

Bill paused for a moment before answering, gazing fixedly at the blue-and-yellow striped pattern of Percy's quilts. "Yeah, I see him," he said quietly. "He comes to the bank every once in a while. He never visits though."

Charlie grunted. "Not surprising," he muttered. "I'd be too ashamed to show my face if I were him."

Bill released a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "D'you ever wonder about why he left?"

Charlie looked at Bill, eyes narrowed. "We know why he left," he said harshly. "All it took was a politely worded job offer from a conniving clown of a Minister."

Bill opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again. Absentmindedly, he reached up and ran a finger over one of his thicker scars, which ran from under his left eye down to his collarbone. Then, dropping his hand, he turned abruptly to face Charlie.

"I can't remember the last thing I said to him," he said quietly. "I can't even remember the last time we spoke. When I think of him, all I can remember—all that really comes to mind—is memories of us as children, teaching him how to ride a broom, practicing his alphabet with him, playing Gobstones with him. And then, when I get to thinking about Hogwarts, the memories get further and further apart, until—" he broke off, swallowing heavily. "I think I sent him maybe eight letters from Egypt, total. The first year that I was gone, he wrote me twice a month."

The tips of Charlie's ears turned a telltale shade of red and he averted his eyes from Bill's. "That doesn't excuse walking out on your family, Bill," he said severely.

"I know that," Bill insisted, shaking his head. "But…we overlooked him, Charlie. We left him behind. We gave him a foundation, and we forgot to build on it. He was looking for approval, and the Ministry handed it to him on a silver platter. Where else was he going to get it from? The twins?"

Charlie didn't respond; clenching his jaw, he returned his gaze to the floor, his expression inscrutable.

With a slow, deep breath, Bill turned away from the bed and walked back to the window, gazing out towards the marquee again. The little golden flag at the top of the tent was fluttering in the light summer breeze. Uncrossing his arms, Charlie shuffled across the bedroom to join Bill at the window, and a long, heavy silence filled the room.

"I just…I never imagined not having him at my wedding," Bill said, at last. "I always thought he'd be up at the altar with us."

There was a small pause, before Charlie cleared his throat. "If it makes you feel any better," he said gruffly, "I think he probably feels the same way."

Bill looked around and caught his brother's eye, and they stared at each other for a moment. Then— "There's always next year," Bill said, with more confidence than he felt. "First anniversary, and all that. He'll be back by then."

Charlie nodded, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Yeah. Next year."

Another moment's silence passed, and the reality of the war seemed to settle between them like a thick fog. Then, suddenly, Charlie straightened his shoulders and thumped Bill on the back. "Well, let's not keep your girl waiting any longer, or she's going to think you've stood her up."

Bill grinned, shaking his head, but flung an arm around Charlie's neck, and together, they walked out through the doorway, onto the second floor landing, and down the spiral staircase into the sitting room.

Fleur's mother was standing by the fireplace, holding two white rose boutonnières. Upon spotting Bill and Charlie, she brightened. "Zere you are," she said happily, gliding towards them. Drawing her wand, she flicked it at one of the boutonnières, and it fluttered out of her hand to affix itself to the lapel of Bill's robes. Beaming, she stepped back and admired him. "You look so 'andsome."

"And what about me, Madame Delacour?" Charlie asked cheekily, his eyes twinkling. "Do I look handsome, too?"

Apolline chuckled, shaking her head. " _Vairy_ 'andsome," she assured him, fastening his boutonnière, as well.

Charlie smirked at Bill over his shoulder, and Bill rolled his eyes.

"Fleur and 'er fazzer weel be down soon," Apolline told them, as she headed for the backdoor. "You both should 'urry to take your places."

Charlie nodded, looking at Bill. "Ready, mate?"

Bill was staring at a photograph on the mantel—at Percy's thin, lanky six-year-old form, tucked between Bill and Charlie on the rug of his bedroom, surrounded by a pool of Exploding Snap cards. Charlie's eyebrows were smoking faintly, and Bill was obviously snoring, but Percy looked as peaceful and content as a six-year-old could possibly look, sandwiched between his older brothers. A small smile lifted the corners of Bill's lips, and he turned around to face Charlie.

"Ready."

* * *

Author's Note:

I've been in a very Weasley mood lately! (Well, to be fair, I always am.) This was written for The Crownless Queen's "Without" Competition on HPFC. I had to write a story about the emotion of disappointment without expressly naming the emotion. I decided to give Bill and Charlie some well-deserved screentime.

Also, while we're on the topic of Weasleys, I have a story recommendation for those of you who love missing moments as much as I do: 'Order of Mercy' by MandyinKC. It follows Bill, Fleur, Percy, and Audrey during Deathly Hallows, as they construct a plan to save Muggle-borns from persecution. It's a really incredible story, and she updates every Tuesday!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! Do drop me a review, letting me know your thoughts. :)

Ari


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